Beatrix asks to paint with great urgency (“I need to paint!”) every other day or so. Every time, I fall for her tricks. Every time, I think that this will be the time that she quietly sits and paints on paper at the kitchen table while I do something productive like wash dishes. But she never fails to start painting her face as soon as I get absorbed in my task. I don’t understand the appeal, but this is what she does. Maybe I go wrong when I chastize her with a huge smile on my face, or even worse, grab my camera.
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